Losing your mind on a masterpiece

By Martin Flanagan

April 30, 2011 — 12.00am

I KNOW nothing about art, but I know when a painting pulls the eyes out of my head and makes me stop and look at it. Same with footy. I know I'm seeing a great game when I forget everything else and start talking to the television set because no one else is in the room.

But I have to confess, I was slow getting going this year. It felt to me like the footy was missing something. I've never forgotten VFL personality Phil Cleary saying years ago: ''They'll keep changing things [with the game] and one day we'll wake up and find the magic has gone.'' It's all about the magic; the magic that permits us the illusion that this game played by a tiny percentage of the world's population is a world-class game no less deserving of our attention than the Olympics.

Cameron Ling, left, and Travis Varcoe.Credit:Sebastian Costanzo

I don't like the way footy has become a year-round soap opera. I don't like the way the gambling industry has muscled in, and where that will lead. The 18-team competition bothers me. I'm not persuaded we have the talent to support it, in which case we run the risk of puncturing the illusion of it as an elite sport. But the Easter round got me going again.

The young Suns team won in Adelaide. The last quarter was champagne to watch. For the Anzac Day match, I met an old mate at the Quiet Man in Kensington. The atmosphere couldn't have been better. The pub was an ocean of sound. You couldn't make out a single word of the commentary.

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I'm not sure I've ever seen a more confident team than Collingwood. By the time you realise what they have in mind, they are through the door and gone. The player who keeps taking my eye is Jarryd Blair. He's the return of a type we thought had gone from the game - the clever little man - and he's got a hint of Lou Richards's cheekiness. The Bombers got close. Late in the match, James Hird's eyes flashed fire when one of his players made a mistake. The Bombers mean business and that's good for footy.

Freo versus the Dogs in Perth was another terrific game. Freo coming from behind to win at home is a prescription for crowd delirium.That sort of excitement accentuates a good game like a soundtrack accentuates the plot in a movie. But for me, the climax of the round was on Tuesday - Geelong versus Hawthorn at the MCG. For two hours, I sat, delighted and bemused, as one daring and skilful act was followed by another, and then another. I haven't seen a game fought with such intensity in close or for such prolonged periods suddenly break apart in such exhilarating ways. Nor did I ever expect to see another player in the Geelong No.5 guernsey bring the MCG roaring to life with an exquisitely taken goal that crowned a sequence of great play. The scorer, Travis Varcoe, shimmies through the field carrying the ball in his fingertips like it's a hot plate.

Gary Ablett wasn't there, but it hardly seemed to matter. Jimmy Bartel, Geelong's little big man, is now their commanding presence. Watch him in this year's Brownlow. Matthew Scarlett, in his 250th game, nearly severed Jordan Lewis's head. The spoil was judged legal, his object being the ball, but don't tell me the game's not tough enough any more.

As for Harry Taylor, I know a Geelong supporter who claims Harry is the ghost of a mythical digger, Corporal Harry Taylor, who died at Fromelles in 1916. He calls Harry ''The Corporal''. On Tuesday, with his face half whited out with sunscreen, The Corporal appeared even more ghostly but was, as always, unflappable and gallant. Beside him, bearded Constable (Tom) Lonergan, who looks like a trooper from Ned Kelly's day, kept the dangerous Buddy (Lance Franklin) in custody most of the afternoon. Geelong's captain is Cameron Ling. Watching Ling play AFL footy is like watching a man in a dinghy with an outboard motor and a fishing rod attempt a world water-speed record. How can anyone so slow play such a fast game? But he does. His battle with Hawthorn captain Luke Hodge was a battle of craft.

Geelong appears to have handled its change of coach brilliantly. A team that has won two premierships got a coach who was part of three. There's a different energy about the Cats. They're scrapping more but still playing the old Geelong way - with skill and flair, when the game opens for them. And James Kelly. Have I ever noticed before just how complete a footballer James Kelly is? A great game makes you ring up someone when it's over to talk about it just to prolong the pleasure.